Why I Hate Rabbits
by Hannaadi88
Summary: When Alfred and Arthur lead their lives in a not so gay friendly village somewhere in the 14th century, rabbits are the least of their problems. But what happens when an adorable specimen takes Alfred's place? -Secret Santa gift for avalonavalanche.


It probably wasn't worth it. Alfred knew that something so skinny and mean looking couldn't possibly provide much for their supper, but once he had his mind set on something, there was no talking him out of it. That rabbit would be on their dinner plate if he had any say in it. Which he did.

He could feel his pulse quicken and his senses sharpen as he slowly raised his bow, ever so slowly fitting an arrow against the taught string, dropping subtly onto one knee, kneeling behind a honeysuckle bush. Alfred's eyes were trained on the creature, gnawing intently on a shrub a few paces away from the hunter, unaware of the impending danger. Alfred let out his breath slowly, straightening his weapon to match the length of his shoulder and feeling the familiar brush of the fletchings against his ear as he stabilized his aim.

All it would take would be a simple withdrawal of his hand, a release of the strain on the bowstring, and the arrow would fly straight into the rabbit's head. But something (Alfred wasn't sure what it was, exactly, as he was being as silent as a grave- something Arthur never believed he could be) made the animal raise his head suddenly and sniff the air, alert to the movements around him. Before the hunter could blink in confusion, the creature was off, sprinting into the thicket.

Alfred jumped up in agitation, swearing under his breath as he grabbed his quiver and ran after the rabbit, following it through the trees. If he wouldn't catch that animal, it would only prove Arthur's point that he was an impatient boy who didn't recognize the value of fortitude, aside from resorting to sprouts for their meal. And if the other could bare the incessant chatter of children throughout the day, Alfred could easily catch some rabbit.

Of course, a human was no match for a rabbit in distress, and Alfred had a hard time keeping up, eyes narrowing when he lost sight of the animal. He had lost all chance of catching that damned creature ever since it had taken off, but Alfred found himself still running after it, minutes after seeing it last. Slowing into a canter, he attempted at catching his breath, gritting his teeth as his fingers gripped the fabrics of his woolen pants, back hunched over in order to steady his legs. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and exhaled slowly, relaxing his body.

After a few more minutes of panting, Alfred sucked in his breath, listening acutely to the wilderness around him. Perhaps if he was silent enough, he'd be able to hear the rabbit (or any animal, really, at this point) and decide in what direction he would go. He waited, muscles tensing anew while the only sound he heard was his own quick heartbeat, thundering in his ears.

After what seemed like hours, the hunter finally gave in to the fact that he wouldn't have hare stew that night and straightened up, sighing to himself and stretching his arms over his head, wondering what sort of animal would be easy enough to catch in the short time he had left before Arthur would return home.

Some sort of bird, perchance? Or maybe something bigger, that would be easier to catch, but take longer to-

_Snap._

Alfred turned his head around immediately in the direction of the snap, hand immediately flying to his thigh. His fingers closed around the hilt of his knife and he looked around, eyes narrowly scanning his surroundings. What was that sound? Man or beast? Friend, foe, or a potential meal?

The reminder of a meal set his stomach growling, and rather trusting his instincts than his usually clear mind that was warning him that something was amiss, Alfred went back on his tracks and deeper into the thicket, searching for the interruption of the forest's natural silence.

A few good minutes passed before Alfred stopped, the rustling growing too loud for the source to be too far away. He looked around, searching the area carefully while advancing forwards ever so slowly, only to quite literally stumble across the source itself. The hunter stopped himself just in time, looking down to see a snare. And there, struggling to break himself free from the rope tied tightly around his leg, was no one other than the rabbit. The same exact rabbit he had seen before, Alfred could have easily sworn.

Crouching carefully in front of the rabbit, Alfred examined the snare, grinning as he spotted the initials 'G.B'. In the hunter's guild there was the common practice of writing one's initials on each hunter's personal trap, engraving it on the metal or carving into a piece of wood. Since there were so many traps lying around the forest, the initials would serve as an identification, trusting the fellow guild members to honor their promise and not touch an animal that was caught in another man's trap.

But in this case, Alfred personally knew the hunter that the snare belonged to. Gilbert was a childhood friend, and one of the most easygoing people the hunter had ever encountered before, if not just as talkative as he was (as Arthur often complained, not being able to bare both of their company at the same time). And yet, he wasn't close enough to know Alfred's secret. And that said it all, didn't it?

Yet they were close enough for business transactions such as these. Alfred would carefully remove the rabbit from the trap, bring him home alive and notify Gilbert of what his snare had caught. The other would come over, take something of about the same worth from Alfred's storeroom that he fancied, and both parties would be satisfied. A trade, in the most simplistic of senses.

Now, all Alfred had to do was to somehow manage to bring the rabbit home, minus the trap. It would be tricky, but he was a master (well, at least _supposed to_) at those sort of things. Ever so carefully, he grasped the animal around its middle, grabbing tightly as he used his knife to cut off the rope from the rabbit's leg. He could feel the warmth ebbing from the creature as he held it in his hand, shuddering slightly at the rising and falling of the skin as it breathed. Alfred didn't like to be reminded that what he was planning to eat was a living creature. It was God's will, though, that humans would eat animals. Who was he to challenge the word of God?

Loving Arthur wasn't a sin, though. Arthur had told him that, time after time, as they'd lay together under the covers, wrapped up in each other's arms. Even though everyone else thought that their being together was heresy, they were wrong. They were wrong, and Arthur and Alfred were right. They _had _to be, or else God wouldn't had let them have so much happiness if they weren't, right?

Shaking his head, Alfred concentrated on transferring the rabbit into a bag he always carried with him to carry the game back home in. Immediately, he swung the bag over his shoulder and began walking towards the village quickly, ignoring the kicking and sounds coming from the bag.

It was going to be a long walk home.

-x-

One of the things Alfred hated the most when he got back home before Arthur did, was the cold. The cold that the walls created even on the warmest days. True, when the sun was out and one would imagine the air wavering in front of him, the relief of a nice, cooled off home was priceless. But as the temperature never wavered in the heat, the same quality was applied to the winter. The average villager went into great lengths to warm up his household, and Alfred was no exception.

Of course, it would have been nice if Arthur had set up the fireplace and lit the fire so that when the hunter opened the door, a wave of warmth enveloped him in greeting. But as the other spent long hours in the schoolhouse, more than often returning home tired both physically and emotionally as he was the only teacher in the village, Alfred found himself the one organizing dinner and lighting the fire in preparation for his partner's arrival, despite his own laborious work in the field, as well as in the forest.

Alfred didn't dare complain, though. He knew that Arthur had it tough, and the smile of gratitude that he wore when he sat down next to the fire with his small bear that Alfred had made for him, made it all worth while. Sometimes, he would get even more than the usual greeting kiss that he received when the other walked in, a contradiction cold and heat. Sometimes, they would sit next to the fireplace, on the wool carpet Alfred had traded a fox for, and hold each other close as they gazed at the dancing flames. At other times, they would make love on the very same carpet. In the winter, their lives were centered around that fire. That was just how it was.

So it wasn't a great surprise that when Alfred opened the door to their home and issued a greeting, the only thing that greeted him in response was a blow of cold air. Shivering, he closed the door behind him and hung his hunting tools on the wall in their proper place, knowing that if he dumped them on the floor, Arthur would throw a fit. He chuckled at the thought of the other's daily rants and how appealing he looked with his brows furrowed and his cheeks red with aggravation. Alfred would secretly treasure those expressions, and sometimes even did things purposefully wrong just to trigger such a reaction from his lover.

He found himself about to hang his bag on the wall when he remembered what it contained. He immediately held it tighter as he looked around the room, wondering where he could store the animal until he called Gilbert over to set the terms. His eyes catching a box that Arthur usually used to store furs, he hurriedly placed the bag down on top of the pile and closed the lid quickly, knowing that the wood wasn't so densely put together as to deny the rabbit air to breathe. Satisfied with his work, he set to building a fire in the grate in the opposite side of the room, stacking the logs and starting the flame with his flint. He added a bit of moss to help the fire spread, nodding in approval as the logs became surrounded with a halo of heat.

"I'm home."

Jumping in surprise, Alfred stumbled up from his crouch, both excited and curious as to the early appearance of his lover. In a house that had two floors with only one big room on each floor, it didn't take long to reach the other at the entrance, still shivering from the cold and clutching his stack of papers to his chest, as if he hoped that they would block the chill. He had just placed them down on the kitchen table that was a few steps away from the door when Alfred jumped at him, wrapping his arms tightly around his figure, refusing to let go until he was satisfied.

"Let go of me," the other said stubbornly, trying to push Alfred away, "I'm in no mood for your overbearing bouts of affection." He couldn't do a thing, though, with the way the other's arms held him with an amount of strength that he secretly loved.

Alfred pretended not to hear his lover's complaint and rested his chin on top of Arthur's head, his hold loosening up some but remaining firm. "I missed you," he confessed quietly, closing his eyes and enjoying the presence he had pined for during the long day.

That, naturally, quietened the complaints and granted Alfred a few moments of peaceful silence, knowing that the other's face was probably red (not from the cold he had just trecked through) and gave up on resistance. He learned that beating around the bush and playing with each other had its good points, as well as their witty banters. But when he was simply in want for a good hug and comfort, the best way to get it was to be straightforward about it.

"You silly fool," Alfred heard a muffled sound coming from the other man. He pulled away enough for Arthur to breathe properly and was half expecting a lecture about how he couldn't just go up to someone and cut off their air supply. But instead, an Arthur with a soft expression looked up at him and raised a hand to his cheek, chuckling softly. "You really are blunt, aren't you?"

Alfred smiled, covering the hand on his cheek with his own palm and meeting the other's eyes. "Only with you," he said softly. His smile turned into a look of curiosity when Arthur, rather than color as he was expected to, smirked and stepped closer, pulling Alfred down by his collar to meet eye level with him and pressed their foreheads together. "I should hope so," he breathed, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck and tilting his head, meshing their lips together and creating their own warmth.

They stayed like that for a while, lips pressed together and tongues languidly warming each other up with occasional breaks for air when a loud crack from the fireplace broke them apart with a start, looking behind them to see what the source of the interruption was from. When they saw that nothing was amiss, they relaxed, laughing at themselves and pulling apart, each going off to do their own work.

Alfred watched from the corner of his eye as Arthur set about the room, tidying it up from the previous night as Alfred himself boiled some water to make soup. Or rather, his eyes were trained on the other's backside, bending and moving around swiftly. He smiled to himself and looked down at the water, deeming it cold enough to leave it alone for a short while and walking over to his partner, sneaking up on him from behind and placing his hands on top of his shoulders.

"You must have had a long day, sexy" he purred, massaging the stiff limbs. "How about I loosen these up for you?"

The other man seemed to consider Alfred's offer seriously for a moment, contiplating the possibilities before turning around to face his partner, a suave smile plastered on his face. "My, how kind of you," he said sweetly, placing his palms on Alfred's shirt and spreading his fingers across the expanse, feeling the well toned chest beneath the fabric. "You seem a bit tight strung yourself. Perhaps we can work something out."

Alfred beamed down at his partner, warming up to the idea immediately. "Of course we can," he said confidently, eyes gleaming. A second later, the two of them found themselves on the ground, the woolen carpet the only factor cushioning their fall. Alfred laughed at the other's expression, kissing the top of his head apologetically. "I tripped," he offered sheepishly, grinning.

Arthur rolled his eyes and stood back up, shaking his head in slight agitation. "You're mr. twinkle toes himself," he snapped. His face softened and he turned away, heading towards the sheet basket. "I'll get us a blanket," he mumbled, opening the box.

A shocked gasp grabbed Alfred's attention and he turned his head around, body tense. "What's wrong?" he asked, brows furrowed with worry. When he saw Arthur standing with the rabbit he had caught earlier tucked to his chest, though, he body relaxed. His mind didn't, though. For some reason, he didn't like the warm expression Arthur wore while looking down at the animal.

The other always had had a soft spot for animals- especially small ones that looked so vulnerable while alive. Arthur had always said that the world was cruel enough as it was, and that little helpless animals that not only were hunted by larger animals but by humans as well, needed as much help as they could get. He didn't mind eating them when they were cooked, though.

And something told Alfred that they weren't going to have roasted rabbit that night.

"What was he doing in the box?" the man asked, massive brows furrowed in confusion as his hand ran over the soft fur on the rabbit's head, a defensive aura surrounding him. Alfred slowly stood up, reluctantly eying the animal. "Oh, that," he addressed the thing passively. "I caught it for supper. You like rabbit stew, don't you?"

Arthur froze, hand hovering midair above the rabbit. "You mean you trapped this poor creature _alive _in the box for God knows how long, just to eat it later on? Are you _mental?_"

Alfred knew something like this would happen the moment the other set eyes on the animal. "I would have saved it from its sufferings and killed it-"

"It's a _him, _Alfred, not an 'it'. Animals aren't objects."

"-fine. I would have killed _him _the moment I saw him if he had been mine to begin with. But he was caught in Gilbert's-"

"I don't want to hear his name mentioned in this house," Arthur said firmly, tightening his hold on the rabbit. "You know how he is and how he'd react if he knew about us. Why you continue your friendship with him is beyond me. But anything that involves him is obviously something that won't end well. I don't care why you tortured this rabbit and there is no excuse for it. Goodnight."

Alfred watched with his eyes wide in disbelief as the other turned away and marched off, holding the animal close as he began climbing up the stairs. Remaining numbly in his place, Alfred looked around the now very cold room in dismay, a frown forming on his face.

Something needed to be done.

* * *

><p><em>Hanna Chan's Blah-Blah Corner;<em>

_Merry Christmas, everyone! *smile* This fic (part one so far) is my Secret Santa gift for **avalonavalanche, **who is a great artist (judging from what she just posted as her gift for someone else). In any case, I hope you like this so far, love ;w; I'm sorry if the English may be a bit hard for you, but hey- it'll just be some practice. The prompt I used was the one with Arthur falling head over heals for a rabbit, as you might have understood XD And no worries- no seme!Art._

_Anyway, happy holidays to everyone (I celebrate Hannukah myself), and please review if you have enough Christmas spirit in you or whatever XD_

_-Hanna_


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